Lovesick: The Magic Muggles Feel Too
by Jacquianne
Summary: Harry and Hermione are finishing their seventh year at Hogwarts. Head over heels in love, Hermione is distraught when she sees Harry with Lavendar, and flees to a place no one can find her, completely unsuspecting of her condition... and her lovesickness.
1. Leaving

It's funny how love does that. Flies into your life, hits you in the heart, takes you by your hands and twirls you mercilessly around the dance floor. You're dizzy with love, almost drunk on love, euphoric as you are twirled around. Then – he lets you go. And you fall, repelled like the wrong pole of the magnet, and you crash, on the floor, against the wall, panting, out of breath. The other people on the dance floor are laughing, and you watch, dazed, as your love is off, dancing with some other girl, probably leggy and blonde, twirling her as mercilessly as he twirled you. That's love. That's life.

At least, that's how it was for Hermione Granger. Cupid's arrow had well and truly hit the bull's eye, and she had fallen – no not fallen, dived into this love, so suddenly that she had lost sight of her reserve, her senses, and had forgotten to come up for air. And now, now her love had gone, she realised she needed air.

And so she would leave, fleeing the place that her love had been. The Astronomy Tower, clichéd resort of all canoodling couples; the Room of Requirement which would turn into an unnumbered suite in an unnamed hotel at the slightest blush of a thought; that secret broom cupboard on the fourth floor – the one that nobody knew but them; the Gryffindor tower, where she could still hear their furtive footsteps creeping up to his dormitory. Hogwarts. The dreamy castle, where she had fallen in love, and fallen so hard! Her home for seven years.

But she had lost him. Lost him to a leggy blonde._ I should've known,_ Hermione thought, surveying her own physique critically. The slightly rounded stomach, the curve of her hips, the gentle tapering of her waist and the protruding of her breasts – she had grown into a woman. She had become a woman here. At Hogwarts. She had given everything to him. Here he had awakened her to womanhood, in all its passionate, tumultuous nature. She had given herself to him so wholly, so willingly, not restricting anything from him, not leaving herself anything in reserve. She had given her heart, her soul, her body.

And now he had thrown it all back at her! Preferring Lavender to her, a rather nondescript brunette. Well which would you choose? She couldn't blame him there. A graceful blonde with 32.5 inch legs who would fawn over him disgustingly and practically give him lap dances at the breakfast table was bound to win – over her, Hermione Granger, the girl who loved books more than boys. _Had loved books more than boys,_ she corrected dismally.

_At least he waited until after NEWTS. At least he let me do my best in my exams before dumping me. _She pushed a curly lock away from her face angrily, trying to stop her hair sticking to her tears as she packed.

"Hermione? Honey are you up here?" It was the voice of Ron's little sister, Ginny Weasley.

"Up here Gin," Hermione called back wearily, pulling the zip round her trunk and sitting on it.

The door opened slightly and Ginny Weasley entered, a concerned look on her face. "Ignore my brother. He's being such a _twat!_" Ginny exclaimed, flopping down on Hermione's bed, her red hair clashing violently with the crimson curtains draping by her friend's four-poster.

"What?"

"It was Fred and George's fault. I told Ron not to do it – but they were offering him some money and you know what my stupid brother's like! Honestly Herm if I had known he'd choose you as their guinea pig I wouldn't have let him do it. And now you're sitting up here feeling sick-"

"But I'm not feeling sick!" _Unless you count lovesick… _

"The new powder they've made to put in the Skiving Snack boxes. Makes you feel sick." She waved her hand dismissively.

"No. They didn't try it out on me." She answered glumly.

Ginny sat up on her friend's bed, a new frown appearing on her face. "Look, just because I'm Ron's sister doesn't mean I have the emotional range of a teaspoon too, you know. What's up Herm? Come on, I see that lip going there!" She gently teased her friend.

Hermione burst into tears and sat, shaking on her trunk. Ginny quietly slipped off the bed and crouched down behind Hermione, putting her arm around her shoulders. "Hey… hey… what's all this for? What's happened? Deep breaths, stop crying. Oh Herm!"

Gasping for breath, Hermione squeezed her eyes shut trying to stop crying. "He dumped me." A new wave of sobs tore from her body, wracking her chest as she swayed.

"No way! He didn't! Oh Herm – what did he say?"

"He didn't say anything. He was just hugging Lavender, caressing her the way he used to cuddle me… what did I do wrong? Why's he in love with her? I love him!"

"Oh sweetie. What are you going to do?"

"I'm leaving. I'm leaving Hogwarts, and the wizarding world. I'm just going to go, someplace no one can find me."

"You can't! No – I mean – what about NEWTS?"

Hermione shrugged. "What about them? I've sat them. I daresay Hogwarts' owls can find me to deliver my results. I can't stay here though Gin – you know that. Not when he's with her. I'd die. I know it."

"You really are in love with him aren't you?" Ginny said sadly. "Can I not persuade you to stay? For your friends? Ron and I'll miss you."

Hermione shook her head. "Thanks hun, but no. I have to go. I have to leave."

"Write to me."

"I can't!"

"Why not? Please Herm!"

She sighed, relenting at the look on her friend's face as they sat comforting each other. "Promise you won't tell anyone you're writing to me? And don't tell anyone my address!"

"I promise!"

"I'll owl you when I'm settled. Oh Ginny I'm gonna miss you!" Her eyes watered as she grasped her friend in a fierce hug, releasing her immediately.

"I'm gonna miss you too – bye Hermione." Her voice trailed as Hermione picked up her trunk and with a grimace, picked up an old quill and felt the familiar tug on her navel.


	2. Where is She?

"You bastard!"

"Hey hey Gin what's up? What have I done?" Harry held up his hands in mock alarm.

"Oh don't you play the innocent with me! You know what you've done – and if I wasn't so upset at her leaving then I'd hex you off this planet!"

"Slow down. Geez, Gin, what's up? What have I done? Who's left?"

"You mean you really don't know? You really thought she'd just stick around and watch you stick your tongue down Lavender's throat? You could've at least broken up with her before you go off with the house slut!"

"Me and Lavender? Are you insane?"

"For Merlin's sake! Look – she saw you! With Lav. Hugging her! She saw you – about 2 hours ago. And she's gone!"

"But I wasn't – Lav was just upset – for Merlin's sake will you listen to me a minute Gin? You've got it wrong! Lav had just found out that her brother had been attacked by death eaters. He's in St Mungo's right now. She was upset – I just gave her a hug! That's all – I swear I'm telling you the truth! Do you mind lowering your wand now?"

Ginny stared at him suspiciously, then after a couple of seconds whipped her wand away, making it suddenly whistle through the air.

"Thank you. Now where is she? I need to talk to her!"

"She's gone – she packed and left. I went up to her dorm a couple of minutes before she left. She wouldn't say where she was going, just that she's going out of the wizarding world – where you won't be able to find her. You broke her heart Harry. Have you any idea how much she loved you?" Ginny stormed off.

Harry sat down weakly on one of the chairs in the common room. "I think I had some idea." His voice cracked as he murmured to himself. _It ended so fast…_ Harry thought to himself, trying to take stock of the past couple of hours. _ It started so fast! _Another voice chimed in. Harry remembered suddenly, a flood of little freeze-frames, little moments in time that would be forever emblazoned on his mind. Hermione's blushing face when he first kissed her, the delighted grin when he asked her to be his girlfriend… then later, the serene, peaceful smile that played on her lips as she slept by his side. Her tousled hair in the mornings, the last hint of what had passed between them the night before; her hands frantically fussing over her slightly crumpled clothes as they made their way out of the Room of Requirement at lunch time. Hermione. The girl he loved.

He stood up suddenly, an urge to do something, anything, overpowering him and he shouted in frustration. "Damnit! Where is she?"


	3. Sweets

Hermione was, at that moment, clutching her stomach in disbelief as the Knight Bus bounced and lurched at terrifying speeds round corners, her eyes tightly shut. Stan, the conductor seemed to find her state terribly amusing, and if Hermione could be sure that she wouldn't lose the contents of her stomach by moving, she would've instantly given the hapless conductor something else to squawk about.

"Aye up – Leaky Cauldron!" Stan gripped her shoulder and shook it, making her wince and open her eyes, thankful the bus had finally stopped.

"Thanks," she muttered, getting to her feet gingerly. Stan picked up her trunk as if it was empty and carried it for her. "Well, here goes nothing," she murmured to herself, dragging her trunk along the floor. She pushed the heavy door of the pub open, greeted at once by a cosy, comforting smell of Firewhisky and Butterbeer. She made her way to where she could see Tom, the barman.

"Any rooms Tom?" Straight to the point as always.

"Nice to see you Miss… Granger is it?" Tom paused as Hermione nodded. "I reckon you'll find a room on the first floor. Second left." He smiled.

"Thank you." Hermione replied simply, averting her gaze and walking towards the stairs.

"Anything for one of Harry Potter's friends! Say, will he be joining you?" Tom added hopefully.

"No!" She reacted rather sharply and took a breath. "I mean, no. Harry's, er Harry's busy…"

Tom nodded, rather bemused at her reaction. "Are you all right love?" He asked, peering at her concernedly.

Hermione's face softened at his obvious concern. "I'm fine Tom, really. Just – please, don't tell Harry I'm here. If he asks?"

"Why, yes love, if that's what you want… yes."

Satisfied, Hermione made her way up the stairs to her new room. She sighed with relief when she dropped her trunk onto the ground and flopped down on the bed. That ride on the Knight Bus had left her exhausted and queasy. As she lay there, she planned what she would do. _I need somewhere to stay, somewhere remote where he can't find me. Of course – Châteaux and Shacks! But first, I'm going to need a serious nap… _

While Hermione was enjoying her nap, a black haired lad was frantically trying to track her down.

"Chocolate Frogs!" He yelled at the stone gargoyles that led to Dumbledore's study. He could've sworn they were secretly smiling in amusement at his frustration.

"Let me in!" He demanded, pounding his fists against the stone. But they just stared back at him unrelenting.

"Sherbet Lemon!"

"Jelly slugs!"

"Canary Creams!" Instantly the gargoyles sprang apart. "Finally…" Harry sighed in relief as the stairs twisted slowly up to the headmaster's study.

"Aah Harry," The older man chuckled, seemingly oblivious to the fever that Harry seemed to be whipped up in. "You seem out of breath. Have a seat."

Harry rolled his eyes, annoyed at how laidback his headmaster could appear. He bit his lip and obeyed, sinking into a plush, chintz armchair.

"Sherbet Lemon?"

"No thanks."

"Oh, come now Harry, they're really quite nice… why I can't persuade Minerva that the Muggles do create some good things I don't know… are you sure you don't want one?"

Headmaster –"

"Oh forgive me Harry. You want to talk to me about something. Of course, an old man's ramblings like mine do nothing for – sorry Harry. What is the matter?"

"It's Hermione – she's gone missing! Sir you have to do something – she's just gone!"

"My dear Harry, I'm sure you must be mistaken, a girl like Miss Gr-"

"Sir she's gone! Ginny saw her go! But no one knows where she's gone! You have to get her back!"

"Miss Granger is 17, I presume?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm afraid, Mr Potter, there's nothing we can do. Miss Granger is an adult witch now Harry, and if she has chosen to leave then you and I must respect her decision."

"But Sir – you have to do something!"

"I can do nothing Harry. Miss Granger has reached the age of maturity in the wizarding world. I'm sorry."

The portrait door slammed, causing many Gryffindors inside to jump. Harry Potter entered, a scowl on his face. He crashed down on a sofa next to his best friend.

"What's up with you? You look like you've just seen Malfoy's father's become Minister of Magic!"

"Shut it Ron I'm not in the mood."

"Bloody hell mate! What's going on?"

"Hermione." He growled, as if that explained everything.

Ron's face cleared. "Ohhh. A lover's tiff. Might've guessed. Mate just order her something nice from Hogsmeade. She'll come round. Or you can fly up to her dormitory and apologise…" He put on a high pitched voice and made kissing noises: "Oh Hermione, darling, I'm so sorryyy-"

"Cut it out Ron! It's not like that. She's left me ok? She's left me!" Harry shouted, hauling himself up from the sofa and stomping off towards the staircase that led to the boys' dormitories.

Bemused, Ron shrugged and chuckled, catching the withering look on his sister's face. "Was it something I said?" He asked, wriggling his hand in a half screwed up bag of Bertie Botts' Every Flavour Beans.


	4. A Letter from Lampeter

Deepest, darkest Wales. A perfect retreat. Shrouded by hills, a small Muggle village with a disproportionately large university dominating it would be the perfect bolthole for her to hide and recover. No doubt the university library would have a healing effect on her, balm to her hurt heart. It was ironic how easy it had been. Only the previous day had she gone to _Châteaux and Shacks, _looked through their brochures, decided on a little house in Lampeter and immediately owled the Welsh Magical Assembly in response to a job advert in the _Daily Prophet_. She remembered with a grimace her shock at how, that same day she had owled in response to the advert – she had got the job. But she couldn't help but feel guilty. She was Hermione Granger, member of the Golden Trio, Harry Potter's best friend and girlfriend. Hailed by Dumbledore as the 'smartest witch in the year' and she was Muggleborn. Even her birth situation made her fashionable in wizarding politics, the media swept up in an equal opportunities for Muggleborns campaign. But she knew why it had been so easy. Connections. Despite Voldemort's defeat, the subsequent imprisonment of the Death Eaters and the political shift away from the favouring of pureblood families and their unfair influence and connections, that was how she had got her job. She was connected to The Boy Who Lived.

Lying on her brand new sofa in her brand new home, she rubbed her tummy reminiscently. Too easy. It had all been too easy. Getting a house, a job, a new life. True, her job was nothing special, but then it wouldn't do for her to go for a high profile job. High profile would make her easily traceable, especially for someone as celebrated as Harry. No, her new job as PA to the deputy manager of Welsh Witches' Shelter, a small, new branch of the parent institution the Welsh Magical Assembly would allow her to be independent and pay for the house she had just bought, whilst being suitably 'behind-the-scenes' for her to remain hidden.

Hermione yawned and flicked her wand sleepily, watching with satisfaction as the few remaining boxes comprising her worldly belongings flew lazily off to new homes. _So much for my intentions to quit the wizarding world! _Hermione thought to herself with a smile, thinking about how quick and thoughtless she had been. No Muggle qualifications beyond the Eleven Plus and seven years of being accustomed to a wand and how easy it made jobs like unpacking made it impossible for her to return to the life she led as a child.

She pulled a piece of parchment towards her and scrawled a quick note to Ginny, calling for Aithne, her new owl. _Snowy owl, just like Hedwig…_ she thought of Harry's owl before she could stop herself as she fastened the note to Aithne's claw. She had barely flown off when Crookshanks stalked off across the room with a hiss. Hermione sighed. "Well I could hardly send you to deliver a letter, could I?" She demanded.

"Ooh look!" Ginny Weasley pointed to a small white owl winging its way towards her.

"Very nice," Harry muttered, setting his goblet of pumpkin juice down with a bang.

"Watch it! Someone got out of bed the wrong side this morning didn't they?" Ginny exclaimed, pulling a face.

Harry muttered something incomprehensible and only gave a slight smile of acknowledgement when Ron handed him the last piece of toast – a real act of sympathy on Ron's part.

"Well I don't recognise the owl," Ron started, as the owl hopped lightly in front of his sister's plate.

"Hmm," Ginny replied vaguely, only half listening as she tried with difficulty to untie the note from the owl's leg.

"Well, who's it from?" Ron's curiosity peaked.

"If you'd let me just undo it then I can tell you!"

"Oh give it here-" Ron swiped at the note, pulling it free.

"Give me that!" Ginny lunged over the table, knocking over her pumpkin juice.

"Ooh it's Hermione's writing!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry's black head shot up and he snatched the parchment from Ron, who was too busy trying to keep it from his sister's grasp. Feverishly Harry opened it, eager to read the contents – then tossed it aside to Ginny and walked off in a huff.

"Thank you." Ginny called after him petulantly and read her letter slowly and silently, much to Ron's disappointment.

_Dear Ginny, _

_Just a quickie. Have moved in today and I'm happy. Don't try and find me. I know Harry will read this so I'm not writing my address. Anyway, I'm pooped – moving is such hard work, so I'm getting off to sleep now. _

_Love, Hermione xxx_

"Well?" Ron demanded.

"Well what?"

Ron rolled his eyes in response.

"She's settled. That's it. Now if you excuse me Ronald, I need to be off to Potions." She smiled and left.

"Why does nobody tell me anything anymore?" Ron moaned to himself.


	5. A Lovesick Pair

A week later Ginny received another letter from Hermione. She smiled – clever Hermione, wait until no one expects another letter then send one full of information. Aithne had been able to land discreetly, unnoticed by anyone else as they opened their mail and this time the parchment was a long, informative note.

_Ginny – _

_You can hex those brothers of yours! I think you were right – they did put some of that sickness powder in my juice last week, I've not stopped throwing up since! If you could ask them how long this powder of theirs lasts then please let me know. I'm getting sick of it. Pardon the pun. I suppose you can tell them that they need to work on it taking a more immediate effect, and if they can get it to wear off faster it'd be far more popular. After all, who wants a powder to help them skive a certain lesson when it kicks in so belatedly and then works for so long? So in return for that feedback on their new product, I'd like the countering stuff. _

_Well I've started my new job and it's all going well. Sorry I can't tell you more details but I'd hate for this to reach Harry. I hope by sending this so much later he'll have given up watching your mail – I'm guessing he did read last week's letter? _

_Here's my address – I thought I'd charm it so only you can read it. Just in case! Send a reply back with Aithne so I know you received this. _

_Love, Hermione xxx _

Quickly Ginny scribbled a note back to Hermione, promising to find out the counter for the powder from Fred and George and reassuring her that neither Ron nor Harry had realised that Hermione was in contact with Ginny since last week. She smiled to herself, Hermione really was very perceptive – and knew Ron and Harry extremely well.

"A counter?"

"Yes! As in something to stop the effects of it!" Ginny clutched her wand, ready to hex her twin brothers.

"Ohhh. Now you see Ginny, we don't have one."

"We didn't make one."

"Because it's not needed."

"The effects wear off after 2 hours."

"And anyway, it's impossible our powder made her sick."

"Why?" Ginny asked, annoyed at having to keep looking from one twin to the other as they spoke alternately.

"Because in order for it to work…"

"… She had to have been given it!" The other twin finished. Even Ginny couldn't tell which one.

"So – you're saying that you didn't give Hermione any of that stuff?"

"Bravo! Hey Fred, looks like our baby sister has finally got it!" George hit her playfully on the arm and laughed as he and Fred walked off, leaving a confused Ginny in their wake.

Hermione read Ginny's reply impatiently, feeling momentarily guilty at suspecting the twins. She sighed, realising that her fatigue and sore stomach was the combined stress of the exams, seeing Harry with Lavender, and the move. Plus the Knight Bus' erratic behaviour hardly helped. It was enough to make anyone feel under the weather and give her a touch of 'flu. Conjuring her wand, she summoned the small vial of Madam Pomfrey's Pepper Up! Potion which had been metered out in weekly allowances during the NEWTS month and emptied the contents down her throat.

"Where is she? Have you seen her?" Harry was desperately asking. He and Ron were rushing around Hogsmeade on their last weekend before term finished and they officially left Hogwarts. Hermione had been gone about six weeks now, and Harry was becoming frantic. He had thought about doing what Hermione had done and leave Hogwarts early to look for her. But he didn't need Ron to point out the flaws in that plan. Hogwarts was his home, where he was happy, safe and protected. Since he had to return to the Dursleys that summer he wanted to make it as short a time as possible. And that meant staying at Hogwarts. So instead he had to content himself with dragging Ron full speed through Hogsmeade, interrogating everyone from Madam Rosmerta to any possible Animagi that might be hiding out in the Shrieking Shack. But all he met in Hogsmeade were sympathetic shaking of heads accompanied by apologetic smiles, and the wide-eyed crazy shakes of Ron's head – "Mental, that one!" As he trudged after Harry, hoping a certain Miss Lovegood of Ravenclaw didn't misinterpret his quest to find Hermione.

"That's it. As soon as term's over you and I are going to Diagon Alley. That's next week Ron." He added as Ron frowned.

"Hey! I know when terms ends!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry ignored him and continued. "She's obviously not been to Hogsmeade so where else is there?" Harry ranted, a blue spark jumping out of his wand, a sign Ron knew well. It meant Harry was angry.

Ron sighed. "Yeah whatever mate. Listen, Harry, do you seriously think Hermione will be in Diagon Alley somewhere? I mean, if you were trying to hide from someone isn't Diagon Alley just too obvious?" He paused, waiting with bated breath, hoping Harry wouldn't take that the wrong way.

To his relief, Harry relaxed. "Yeah, I know. But she's probably had to go there – how else will she have sorted everything – you read that note she sent to Ginny-"

"Er actually mate no I didn't. You grabbed it." Ron pointed out slightly put out.

"She's got a place somewhere. That's all it said. So she must have been to somewhere like Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley. And since we've tried here, she must have gone to London."

"But she won't still be there-"

"Ron! I know that! But someone must have seen her, talked to her, known where she went!" He glowered at his best friend, wishing Ron wasn't quite as dense as he seemed.

Ron just held his hands up in surrender. _Please come back Hermione, I can't stand him like this! _


	6. Coffee Morning

She had been gone seven weeks. And she was loving every minute. It was a Saturday, and Hermione had arranged to go shopping with Carys, who she was PA to. They had really hit it off right from the start. Carys, a rather average looking witch with straight brown hair and a determined walk, had immediately taken to her young protégée. A straight O student straight out of Hogwarts and founder of idealistic group S.P.E.W. was perfect for her to mould, and Carys had made it her business to do that as soon as Hermione had accepted the job. Hermione, filled with gratitude and relief at being offered a job that would allow her to demonstrate her organisational capabilities (achieved through years of chivvying Ron and Harry to do their homework) at the same time as channelling her moral spirit through something more successful than SPEW, was only too keen to please her employer. With these attitudes, it was not surprising when a genuine friendship formed.

"Hermione! Darling, I'm here! Are you ready?" Carys popped into the living room as she Apparated and her voice floated up the stairs to where Hermione was kneeling in the bathroom.

"Just one minute," Hermione called down before gulping as the familiar urge to retch took over. Throwing herself over the toilet, she clutched the white rim as she heaved up her breakfast.

Carys frowned, hearing the sound of Hermione throwing up. She rushed up the stairs and crouched beside Hermione, putting an arm around her. "You're not well."

Hermione sat up and flushed the chain. "Oh no, I'm fine. Really, this is normal. Then I'm fine all day. Stress I think, leaving Hogwarts, getting a place of my own, the job… it all happened so quickly. Once I get on with my day I'm fine. Now come on, I believe you and I have some shopping to do!" Hermione hauled herself up, pulling her friend up with her.

"If you say so.." Carys sighed as Hermione, with a pop disapparated.

Not thoroughly convinced, Carys took a suspicious look around Hermione's bathroom before giving up and popping after the girl.

"Mmm. My stomach's making noises. Let's grab a bite to eat shall we? That little place over there is calling to me!" Hermione exclaimed, swinging her shopping bags into one hand and using her free one to point at a small café nearby.

Carys raised an eyebrow. "Well I daresay I'd feel a bit peckish if I'd spent half the morning chucking my breakfast up." She smiled dryly and followed Hermione into the café.

"What is it?" Hermione asked abruptly, after watching her friend stir her cup of coffee for far longer than was necessary.

The older woman smiled. "You tell me." She smiled again, noting how Hermione's arms crossed in front of her breasts and her brow suddenly furrowed into a frown. _On the defensive already… _Carys thought. "You tell me what this 'illness' really is." She put her hands in the air, bending her fingers to mimic inverted commas. "You tell me why you ran away from Hogwarts. You were a model student Hermione, you must have loved it there." She sipped her coffee.

"I don't understand. What do you want me to tell you?" Hermione snapped, her eyes darting in fear from her coffee to Carys and back again.

"Darling, I run the Women's Shelter. I see women like you every day. Women running scared. Scared of all different things. Honey, I know the signs. You're one of them."

Hermione realised tears were falling down her cheeks as Carys reached across and gripped her hand gently. "I'm not one of them! I'm not! I'm Hermione Granger, straight O student, swot of the year! I'm not running from anybody!"

Carys shook her head. "Want to explain this mystery illness then?"

"It's _stress!_ I told you – it's the change, the move, the new job, having a house of my own – it's stressful." Hermione insisted.

"You had a boyfriend at Hogwarts?"

"Yeah – yes. But I don't see what Har- _he_ has to do with anything!"

"And you've been sick for how long? Seven weeks?"

"Yes! The stress! I moved _seven_ weeks ago. See, it's _stress!_"

"Stress from moving and getting a new job wouldn't last this long honey."

"What are you saying?" Hermione whispered.

"What I'm saying, darling, is that you're not sick. You're pregnant."

"No – no – I'm not – I can't be – I – " Hermione blustered wildly.

"Still a virgin are you?" Carys tapped another sachet of sugar into her mug, her eyes never breaking from Hermione's.

"Well I-" Hermione blushed beet-red. Carys gave her a knowing look.

"So it's not impossible is it? In fact, very probable."

"I'm NOT pregnant!"

"All right! Whatever! You believe whatever you want darling. Now, can we get out of here and get some shopping done?"

Glad for the change of subject, Hermione assented and the two friends went out of the café together.


	7. Tampax Math

_I'm not pregnant, I can't be! There's no way – I mean I'm not! I've left Harry for good, there's no way I can be… no it's impossible. Isn't it? Yes! I'm not pregnant, I'm not I'm not I'm not-_

"Hey dopey!" Carys' voice shook Hermione out of her thoughts.

"Uh? Oh, sorry Ca – what?"

"Lost in our thoughts were we? Something on your mind?" Carys grinned, knowing full well what Hermione had been thinking about.

Hermione fixed her a sarcastic look. "So what were you saying?"

"Oh – just that I need to go to the store for a few things – you coming?"

"Yeah, sure," Hermione replied absently, her mind already on other things. Idly she watched as Carys zoomed through the aisles, tossing cereal and kitchen towel and a pack of Tampax into her basket. The Tampax caught her attention. _When was the last time I had to buy feminine hygiene products? Seems awhile… _

"Hermione! Wake up!" Carys nudged her arm, a small frown appearing on her face. "You keep spacing out on me! What are you looking at?" She laughed, her eyes following Hermione's gaze. The Tampax. She stopped laughing and took her friend's arm concernedly. "Hermione, what are you thinking?"

Hermione smiled wanly, turning her head to look at her companion. "Oh nothing really, you buying those just made me wonder when was the last time I had to buy them."

Carys nodded. "Fair enough. And out of curiosity, when was the last time?"

Hermione laughed. "Nosy aren't we? Well I think the last time was the last Hogsmeade weekend and-"

"Hogsmeade weekend? So when you were still at Hogwarts?"

"Yeah – why?"

"You left Hogwarts seven weeks ago! And wasn't that weekend a good month before you left?" Carys tried to remember.

"It was in March. And I left Hogwarts in the middle of June – yes that sounds about right because we're at the end of July now – yes I left after my exams which were mainly in May – some in June. So it must have been towards the end of March." Hermione smiled.

"So you last had a period at the end of March?"

Hermione paled a bit. "Yes, I think so."

"So you should have had three periods since, at the end of months April, May and June?"

"Yes…" Hermione lingered over her answer.

"Herm we are at the end of July. So you're period's what, a few months late?"

"The stress Carys! How many times have we been through this? It's late because of the stress – I have had NEWTS all through May and the beginning of June which have obviously messed up my cycle and delayed it a bit. So I should be due any time now." Hermione declared triumphantly.

"OK! Sorry!" Carys held her hands up in surrender. "You're stressed."

"Finally! Yes! I'm stressed! So since my period's late, I think I'd better buy a pack of those too, don't you think?" Hermione said, half-exasperated, and plucked a box of Tampax off the shelf for herself.


	8. Harry's Birthday

**Quick Author Note: I promise I'll make this short and sweet. I have had over 2000 hits on my story yet only 17 reviews – many of those by the same people. I know it's not compulsory to review, but I would appreciate it. I do reply to reviews – everyone who has submitted a 'signed' review has had a reply. And I am open to flames or any criticism. So please, make my day and review! Thanks. **

Harry watched idly as his friends enjoyed themselves. At his birthday party. Not that he really begrudged them their fun, but it seemed as thought he was doomed to spend his birthdays being miserable. His first 17th birthdays had been spent with the Dursleys, and this, his 18th, should have been a great celebration at the Burrow with all his friends. But not all his friends were there. Hermione was not. Harry sighed. He had not seen her for seven weeks.

"Harry!" Ron screamed. Harry looked up, as if on cue, and saw the bludger approaching him. Quickly he spun round on his broom and felt the air whip around his face as the ball passed him. _Phew that was close. _

"Whoa mate! Pay attention! That one nearly had you there!" Ron came flying up to him.

"Sorry. I wasn't thinking."

Ron rolled his eyes in exasperation. "I know you weren't thinking! Look, put her out of your mind for once, please. It's your birthday – have fun. Catch the snitch. Thinking about her won't bring her back."

Harry smiled in spite of himself. "You talk like she's dead."

"Well, maybe she is, in a way."

"What do you mean?"

"She's dead to us. She's gone. She's put us out of her life. Maybe it's time you did the same with her." Ron called as he flew away to the other end of the pitch, leaving Harry lost in his thoughts.

It had only been seven weeks. _Seven weeks, and he's willing to forget all about her, give up on her so quickly? _Harry mused angrily. He thought back to last week, as they had gone round Hogsmeade painstakingly asking every person they could find about Hermione. Then term had ended, and they had traipsed through Diagon Alley, going in every shop, insisting on speaking to all staff in all shops. But nothing. It seemed as thought Hermione had disappeared from wizarding England. Harry wondered momentarily if that was possible, that she had gone back to her life with her Muggle parents. But no, that would be ridiculous. Hermione was far too skilled at magic to abandon the magical world. Anyway, her note to Ginny, a couple of days after she'd left seemed to indicate that she was not living with her parents. And the letter was sent using an owl. Hermione's owl, not one owned by a postal service. The small white owl had had no collar or crest like the Hogwarts owls, or hireable owls wore. _No, she's definitely stayed in the wizarding world. I just don't know where. Oh Hermione, why did you go? Why couldn't you have sulked at me, thrown things at me, shouted at me, demanded apologies, gifts, promises? Why couldn't you have just waited to find out that you were wrong about Lav and I?_

But Harry knew why. Because that was Hermione's way. Confident in knowledge and evidence. Intense in love. _Hermione had never wanted me to buy her trinkets, or make a big show of our love. I did anyway, occasionally. Just to watch her blush most of the time. _Harry's eyes softened as he remembered how, one morning, whilst admonishing Ron for stuffing himself with far more food than was polite, Hermione had been surprised to find a bouquet land with Hedwig, next to her plate. _"Harry!" _ she had exclaimed. _"Oh Harry!" _Her cheeks flushed red and she buried her face in the white blooms. When she lifted her head, their were tears sparkling in her eyes. _"You shouldn't have-" "Yes I should" _he heard himself reply. _"Because I love you."_

He remembered another time. Lying in his bed, after their first time together, Hermione's arms still wrapped around him. He could feel her light breath on his chest. _"I love you, Harry." _ she had said. _"I love you." _ she repeated. And it was bliss. No expensive gifts, no fancy restaurant, no ostentatious display of wealth, love or crudity. Just a man and a woman, lying in bed, having made love. No people around to listen or cheer, no publishers or reporters with cameras, looking for something juicy to fill a gossip column. Just Hermione, lying in his bed, giving herself to him. She had given her body, and with those words, gave her heart and soul. And Harry knew that. _This is Hermione, _he remembered thinking. There was something particularly endearing in the heartfelt way she had said it. Speaking at her most vulnerable, a naked girl, lying in the arms of her lover, admitting that she was his. And no blushes. Just a few simple words, said so sincerely as she looked into his eyes.

Hermione was certainly whole-hearted. With her, she either did something and jumped in with both feet, determined to make it the best she could, or refrained completely. Harry thought her studies were a good example of that. Hermione had made up her mind to excel, and wouldn't stop until she had beaten everyone else. He remembered back in first year, when Harry was wondering whether they should all go after the stone, how decisive Hermione had been. _"Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that."_ Brave Hermione – risking her 112 and Hogwarts success. For him. Harry realised with a jolt just what and who she was risking her achievements for. For him. If that didn't mark at least the start of her devotion, then what did? Harry blushed as he thought of Hermione being devoted to him. But it was true. He knew she was. _Had been,_ he added dismally.

Devoted was a good word, Harry thought, as he pondered the connotations. Hermione was truly devoted to him. She'd been on his side in everything, and once they'd acknowledged they were in love, she'd been so infatuated with him that there was nothing she wouldn't do for him. He remembered how patient she was with him explaining Snape's homework task, how selfless she'd been helping him _write_ most of Snape's homework tasks. And in other things too. She would go faithfully to every Quidditch match he played, rain or shine. She'd cheer him on, punch Malfoy on occasion for him and hex any girl who even so much as looked at Harry the wrong way. She'd even conquered her fear of flying for him, so she could go out with him on their brooms. She'd developed her skill at wandless magic; she'd taken extra classes. All to protect him, to be with him, to support him. To love him.

So they had been inseparable, Harry remembered. From before and after the defeat of Voldemort. Before to protect him, to make sure she could love him as much as she possibly could in case… And when they came back from the final battle, Voldemort dead and gone, Harry could remember waking up again in the hospital wing. His first sight was Hermione, her hair on his duvet, as she lay, face down, asleep over his bed. Then he woke her gently, and the realisation that they had won, that they were really alive hit home. It took everything in them to not devour each other there and then. But Harry could still feel the moment she looked up, saw him awake and leapt into his arms, flinging herself onto him. _"You're alive! You're alive!" _ She had proclaimed joyously, shattering him with kisses, her face wet with her tears. _"I love you, I love you!" _ And Harry could hear his own, almost identical response as he hugged her tightly to him, crushing her into him.

That was why she hadn't waited to find out the truth when she saw him with Lavender. That was why she hadn't waited to curse him into next year, to inflict wrath worse than Voldemort's on him. Because it wasn't her style. Hermione, all or nothing, had given her all to him, Harry knew. And if she thought it wasn't reciprocated, then there was just no point staying around, to mope, or to plead. No point in staying to make a scene, to scream and shout. Because if he didn't love her, then she had lost him. And no amount of desperation, hysterics, loss of control would give her him back. Better to go, and keep her pride.

"Harry!" A chorus of voices sounded in annoyance.

"What?" He snapped.

"We just lost! You let Ginny get the snitch. Honestly, mate, get a grip." Ron explained, annoyed.

"Oh. Er, when?"

"What do you mean, when?" Ron bellowed. "About five seconds ago! And she chased it pretty slowly to give you a chance since it's your birthday."

"Sorry." Harry said, not for the first time that day.

"Yeah, I know mate. Try and mean it this time, will you?" He said in exasperation, then circled his way down, with Harry following. A moment later he was brought into the reality as his friends including the whole clan of Weasleys swarmed around him, ready to force Harry to enjoy his birthday.


	9. Pee on a WHAT?

The two friends collapsed on Hermione's bed in uncontrollable giggles. "I think," gasped Carys between her laughs, "I think I'd better go to the bathroom!" She staggered off the bed and into the bathroom. "You got any cups or something? I need a glass of water." Carys called back to Hermione, who was busy stifling her laughter into her pillow.

"Yeah, sure – in the cabinet. Just get one." Hermione called back.

Carys opened the cabinet above the sink and reached for a glass, moving a blue box of Tampax out of the way. She filled the glass and remembered the argument they had had over the Tampax. She smiled – it was ridiculous! She filled her glass and was about to return the box to its shelf in the cabinet when she noticed something. The box was still sealed. Raising an eyebrow she did some quick calculations.

"So, are you stressed?" Carys asked, returning to Hermione's room.

Hermione laughed, her mirth evidently not suffocated by her pillow. "Nope! In fact, I'd say I'm pretty relaxed! Why?"

"Oh, no reason. I was just getting a glass of water when I saw something that made me wonder." Carys took a sip of water and looked out of the window.

"What do you mean?" Hermione was serious now, her face portraying an incredulous smile.

"Just that we're now nearly half way into August and your box of Tampax is still sealed. It was the stress was it, Hermione?"

"Look, it's probably still settling down after this upheaval." She waved her hand dismissively.

"For three and a half months Hermione?"

"No! It's just, I mean it's nothing, it's-"

"A late period? A baby? Honey, your period is not 'settling down', nor has the stress taken it's toll on it. Not for this long. You're three and a half months late." Carys insisted, taking Hermione's hands, forcing her to listen.

"Don't be so dramatic! There's probably a simple explanation –"

"You're right. There is a simple explanation. The simple explanation, Herm, is that you are going to have a baby. There is a child growing inside you. And I'm guessing it's been there for at least three months."

"When are you going to give up this baby nonsense?"

"When you stop having morning sickness and your period comes."

"I do not have morning sickness!" Hermione protested.

"What do you call worship of the porcelain gods every morning then? Or coming into work first thing looking green and peaky? The smell of the caretaker's coffee making you run to the ladies'? Read my lips Hermione: you are pregnant."

Tears filled Hermione's eyes. "But I'm not! I, I can't be! I can't be Ca!" The tears fell from her eyes and she bowed her head. "I can't be." she insisted, her small voice sounding broken.

She felt Carys' arms go around her. It reminded her of a Molly Weasley hug. "Now, tell me why you can't be pregnant." Her voice was instantly softer and inviting.

"Because I've split with Harry."

"OK. So you split with Harry. Were you still with him before you left Hogwarts?"

"Yes. I was with him until and including the day I left – the day I saw him with Lavender."

"Did you make love?"

"Yes."

"Did you make love after your last period, in March?"

"Yes – we, we made love all the time! We loved each other. He loved me. I loved him."

"Did you use protection?"

"I was on the Pill. My mother put me on it years ago to help with painful periods."

"The Pill?"

"Muggle contraceptive."

"Muggle? So, not 100 guaranteed to work?" Carys exclaimed. "Didn't you use the charm?"

"There's a charm?"

"Of course! Didn't your mother ever explain it to you?"

"Mum's a Muggle."

"Oh. Well, please, let me do the pregnancy charm on you anyway."

"What's it do?"

"Tells us whether you're pregnant or not. Guaranteed to work."

"No thanks. I'd rather, I'd rather do this the Muggle way." Hermione said politely. Somehow she couldn't stand the thought of such a charm. Something so accurate, it would prove once and for all whether she was pregnant or not. In the seconds it would take Carys to utter the incantation, her life could change. She wanted to do this the way her mother found out. Peeing on a stick. At least that would draw it out longer, give her time to think, to experience what her mother must have gone through, what all Muggle women would go through, the suspense, the wondering. An instant charm would take all that away from her.

"Which is?" Carys interrupted her thoughts by inquiring what the 'Muggle way' entailed.

"Peeing on a stick!"

"Peeing on a what? You can't be serious!" Carys shook her head in disbelief.

"Come with me, I'll show you."

"I'm not watching you pee!"

"No I didn't mean that! We need to buy a stick."

"Aren't there plenty in the garden?" Carys was most perplexed.

"Oh not that kind of a stick, silly!" Hermione exclaimed, laughing in spite of herself. "Come on, we'll go and buy one from the chemist's down the road – I'll explain how it works."

Surrendering, Carys allowed her protégée to lead her out of the house. Minutes later they returned, Hermione trembling as they rushed up the stairs to Hermione's bathroom.

"Listen, just go on, sit on the loo, pee on the stick, or whatever it is you do then tell me what it says." Carys urged, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"I can't do it! Oh Ca, I'm not pregnant am I?"

"Only one way to find out." Carys reasoned. "Well two ways to find out. I could do it right now for you if you want."

"No! I'll go and er, pee on the stick…" She disappeared into the bathroom.

"Well? Do we have a baby or what?" Carys demanded impatiently through the door.

"I have to pee first! I can't pee!"

Carys rolled her eyes and pretended to bang her head against the door. "Oh for goodness sake! Just pee!"

"I can't! It won't come!"

"Think running water! Streams! Waterfalls! Ssshh ssshhh –"

"Carys – what are you doing out there?" Hermione called.

"I'm trying to simulate running water! I'm trying to make you pee!" She called indignantly.

"OK OK I'm peeing now!" Hermione blushed. "I can't believe I just said that!"

"I can't believe I just heard that. Geez, I don't envy Muggle women. So, what's the verdict?"

"You are so impatient! I have to wait 2 minutes. Oh my goodness – the tip's turned pink!"

"What does that mean? Thought it was called 'Clear Blue'? Sounds odd to me." Carys remarked, hearing fumbling inside the bathroom. "You all right in there?"

"Just reading the instructions – I'm trying to find out what the pink thing means!" Hermione shouted back, skimming the paper. "Oh – false alarm, it means that it has absorbed the urine! Therefore it should take 2 minutes from now."

"Bloody hell! Is this what you Muggles have to put up with? This suspense and waiting? I mean –" But what Carys meant no one would ever know, as suddenly she stopped mid-sentence at the sound of sobs coming from the bathroom. "Oh my gosh! Hermione, what's happened? Are you ok?"

"I'm so scared! I'm holding this stupid stick that my whole future will be based on and I'm so scared! I want to know! No I don't want the charm Ca – but I don't know what I'll do!" Hermione's sobs increased.

"Oh, darling it's ok, it's ok. It will be ok. Just a minute to wait now, surely."

"I don't know if I can! My stomach's in turmoil and I want a hug."

"You're on the loo." Carys stated the obvious.

"I know, but I want a hug!"

"You want me to come in?" Carys grimaced. _Why wouldn't the girl just let me do the charm on her? So much more simple… _

But she opened the door and went to comfort her friend. She knelt down on the floor next to the loo and put her arms around Hermione awkwardly, careful not to touch the 'stick'. _This is ridiculous, she's on the loo, her pants are round her ankles, she's peed on a stick, she's holding a stick, and I'm hugging her. I've gone mad. _"You'll be ok hun, you will. I'm here for you, whether you're pregnant or not. It's ok Herm." She patted her back nervously as she spoke.

Hermione's sobs gradually subsided and she grabbed a piece of loo roll and blew her nose noisily. She held the stick away from her, at her side.

"Er, Herm, I don't know much about these things but I think 2 minutes is up. You need to look."

"I can't." Hermione whispered.

"Yes you can. Just pick it up and look at it. What are we looking for again?"

"A dash if I'm not pregnant, and a plus sign if… if…"

"If you are." Carys finished. "You can do this Herm. Come on. Be strong. Gryffindor bravery now, come on. Just pick it up so you can see it and read it."

"I don't know if I'm ready for this!" Hermione exclaimed, still teary.

"You can! Now come on, this floor's getting hard. I hate kneeling." Carys moaned, shifting position slightly.

"OK." Hermione gave a watery smile. "I'll look."

She brought a shaky hand holding the pregnancy test up to her chest. "Here goes nothing…" She muttered to herself and opened her eyes.

"Oh Ca! Ca!" She cried.

"What? What is it? Are you or aren't you?"

"Oh Carys!" She exclaimed again.

"Well? Tell me Herm! Are you having a baby or not?"

"I, I, I'm," Hermione stuttered.

"You're what?" Carys asked, her whole body tensing in excitement.

"Pregnant."


	10. Meet the Parents

"I just don't know where to look anymore!" Harry groaned. "Talk about needles and haystacks."

"I know, we need Hermione – she'd know." Ron put in, trying to be helpful. All he received was a withering look from Harry.

"If she was here, _Ronald,_ we wouldn't be looking for her, would we?"

"Was only tryin' to help…" Ron muttered, returning to his Quidditch annual.

"Well don't." Harry replied curtly.

The truth was, he didn't know where to start. After a few ideas he'd had had been unfruitful, and he was out of leads. He'd tried Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley, and pretty much put his hopes in someone there having seen her or heard where she was going. But nothing. It was like she'd never been to either of the places. Never in his life had he thrown his name about so much. He'd even got Mrs Weasley to trim his hair so his scar was even more obvious. He'd taken out an advertisement in the Daily Prophet. Nothing too revealing, just requesting that anyone who had heard from Hermione Granger should get in touch with the newspaper. So far no one had come forward.

Harry shook his head. _Surely someone must have heard from her, or seen her? She couldn't just have disappeared – it's impossible. She'd need money, temporary lodgings and food. She must have been to Gringotts at least. Unless she went to her parents' house… no impossible – the note to Ginny showed she'd gone somewhere. And she couldn't have gone far, otherwise there's no way she could've owled Ginny so quickly. Maybe a visit to her parents would throw up something… _

"It's Harry, isn't it?"

"Yes ma'am. Harry Potter."

"Of course! Harry dear, how are you? Hermione's told us so much about you. Naturally, we've not seen you for some time what with school and that-"

"Who is it love?" A voice called from within, causing Mrs Granger to stop mid-sentence.

"One of Hermione's friends, Dave!" She called to her husband. Then to Harry: "Come on in dear, let's not leave you on the doorstep. Come on now."

Harry shuffled in, feeling slightly nervous. He'd never been in Hermione's home before. Hell, he'd never met Hermione's parents before! _What was I thinking? Oh hello Mr and Mrs Granger, your daughter and I were going out – oh yeah and I annoyed her, she broke up with me and ran away. Know where she is? _Like that would work. He entered their living room and Mr Granger stood up to meet him. He shook his hand and sat down.

"Well, dear, what brings you here?" Mrs Granger asked gently. "Would you like a drink?"

"Oh, yes please. Thank you very much Mrs Granger."

"Well boy, you're quite a favourite with my little girl. What is it we can do for you?" Mr Granger spoke up as his wife went to make Harry a drink.

Harry cringed, Mr Granger seemed to be a typically protective father. _Great, just what I need, an overprotective father and a dentist to boot. I'll be lucky if I get out with any teeth at this rate… _

"Well, Sir, the thing is-"

"Call me Dave."

"Thanks, er, Dave. Well, you see, the thing is, me and Herm- I mean Hermione and I, well we, we were, pretty good friends…" Harry started.

To his surprise Mr Granger slapped his knee in mirth and guffawed. "Oh son! You had me going there! You're Hermione's boyfriend aren't you? Well, why didn't you say so!" Mr Granger laughed further and Harry blushed.

"Now Dave, stop teasing the poor boy. You're making him uncomfortable." Mrs Granger reproved her husband. "Here you go dear, lemonade. Sugar-free."

"Thank you Mrs Granger. I was just telling your husband about Hermione and I."

"Oh! Of course! You're going out aren't you?" Mrs Granger nodded.

"You knew?" Mr Granger looked at his wife in surprise.

"Of course! Hermione – what do you call it – owled me as soon as they got together. Rather sweet if you ask me. She was deliriously happy Harry."

"Oh." Was all Harry could say. He cleared his throat. "Have you, seen Hermione recently? Or heard from her?" Harry spoke tentatively.

"Oh yes! Why, we got a letter from her back in June – she said exams were over, school was finished and her and some of her friends would be flat-sharing until they had good jobs and could get places of their own. Do you like it Harry? Hermione was rather vague, she mentioned you of course, and a couple of girls – Ginny and Parvati I think their names were. She said she'd contact us when the move was over and you'd all got your house straight. Why do you ask dear? Surely you see Hermione every day?" Mrs Granger was perplexed.

"When did she write this letter?" Harry was confused, he couldn't remember of _any_ plans to house-share with Hermione's friends!

"Why, I think it was dated the middle of June… is something the matter dear?" Mrs Granger was slightly anxious and her hands clasped together worriedly.

"The middle of June…" Harry mused, thinking back. "Oh my goodness!" He murmured and put his head in his hands.

"Harry – has something happened to our daughter? Harry!" Mrs Granger crossed her legs and uncrossed them in panic.

"Hermione… Hermione left school in the middle of June. Straight after her exams. Before term finished. No one knows where she's gone. But I can tell you now that she's not house-sharing with me – or Gin or Parvati. Because Ginny is a year younger than us and is living at the Burrow, her home. Parvati was at my birthday party a couple of weeks ago. She's still living at home while she saves money. And I'm, I'm staying at Ron's for the summer."

"So you came here, looking for her." Mrs Granger finished in wonderment. "Oh my baby! What's happened? Why did she leave Hogwarts? She always wrote about how much she loved it."

"She did love it. Ginny saw her go. According to Ginny, Hermione saw something, misinterpreted it and left immediately."

"But what could she have seen? Surely she should've waited…?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know why she didn't wait. But I do know why she went – or at least, I know the reason she gave to Ginny. And I'm so sorry – it wasn't what Hermione thought."

"I take it this has something to do with you?" Mr Granger put in. "Tell us, son."

"She saw me hugging Lavender – a girl in our year. But it wasn't like that! I was hugging Lavender yes, but she was upset. Her brother had just been admitted to St Mungo's – that's our hospital – after being attacked by a Death – by a bad wizard. She was distraught and I comforted her. There was nothing more than that, I promise you. But Hermione didn't know that – she assumed I had gone off with Lav and so she went."

"Oh my god! Dave! Our daughter's run away!" Mrs Granger brought a hand to her quivering mouth in shock. Tears came into her eyes.

"I'm really sorry Mr and Mrs Granger – if I could change it I would. I love your daughter." He added the last part slightly awkwardly.

"It's not your fault Harry," Mr Granger sighed. "It's just unfortunate how Hermione took it. No one could have predicted that sort of reaction. I'm glad you came to us son. Even it is August." He shot Harry a reproachful look.

"I'm sorry sir, but we only finished school at the end of July. And since Hermione is seventeen, she is an adult in our world. So we couldn't report her missing – even to you."

"Oh Lord, Dave – what shall we do?" Mrs Granger spoke quietly. "How do we even know if she's all right?" The anguish in her voice was unmistakeable.

"Ginny got a letter from her, about 2 days after she left. All it said was that she'd found a place, she was settling in to her new job and was happy. Oh and 'don't try to find me'. That was it. No one's heard from her since." He honestly believed that to be the truth.

"Well, it seems she doesn't want anyone to find her until she's ready. There seems to be nothing we can do. She hasn't come to us for help. And if she has a place of her own and a job – well then that's something." Mr Granger evaluated. "It might be best to let her cool off steam, be independent, and wait for her to come to us. After all, we can't find her can we? We can't report her as missing because of this letter we have and the letter your friend – Jenny did you say? – has. So what can we do? She's in your world, I'm sure of it. And she knows we can't search for her there. Certainly if you can't – you're something of a celebrity in your world aren't you? – then two Muddles like us can't!"

Harry smiled in spite of the situation. _Muddles! Jenny! Celebrity! Hermione would certainly have found that funny, _Harry thought. He sighed resignedly. "You're probably right. This is so frustrating! I just want her back!"

"Mrs Granger reached over and patted his hand. "I know dear. So do we." She paused and sighed. "So do we."


	11. Happy Daydreams

**Sorry I took a bit longer. Went out on a bar crawl last night (one last fling before my exams) and was fit for nothing today. And it's short as well. I apologise. You'll have to be patient with me now, for I have 5 exams this week. But I will keep writing – just updating a bit slower. Thanks for understanding. **

While Harry was busy breaking the news of Hermione's disappearance to her parents, the missing girl was engaged in les serious pursuits, indulging in a little harmless daydreaming with her friend Carys.

"I just can't believe it!" Hermione said, more to herself than her companion. She lay on her sofa, on her back looking dreamily at the ceiling. She stroked her tummy. "A baby! Wow."

Carys smirked at her. "You know, for someone who, ten minutes ago could barely pee with fright that she might be pregnant, you've really got used to the idea haven't you?"

"Oh Ca! I know, but – it's a baby! A baby!"

"Yes, I think we've established that point now Herm." Carys was getting impatient.

"I know I know! But a baby! In me – in here," she prodded her stomach, "a little life inside me. Isn't it just amazing?"

"Yes. It is amazing."

"I mean, it's a little bit of me, a little bit of Harry, and it's just – wow how is it possible?" Hermione's eyes were shining as she pondered the miracle inside her.

"Oh pur-lease. Tell me you know how it's possible. Please tell me you knew what could happen when you got a bit frisky." The long-suffering Carys rolled her eyes.

"Honestly!" Hermione sat up out of her almost-trance to throw a cushion at her friend. "Don't be silly. I was being hypothetical."

"Whatever. Big words. Anyway, what are you going to do?"

"I'm keeping it duh!" Hermione cried indignantly.

"Even though it's father cheated on you?"

"It's still my baby! And I'll always have part of Harry…"

"God you're soppy!" Carys exclaimed in disgust. "Well I'm glad you're keeping it. Hey, I can be Auntie Carys!" Her face lit up.

"See? Told you you'd be excited soon! Oh Carys, is it really true? I'm not dreaming? I'm really having Harry's baby?"

Carys laughed and caught her friend's hand between her own. "Yes! It is true! You're not dreaming! Now, whether the baby is Harry's or not I can't tell you, but it's most definitely yours!" Carys laughed again, Hermione's enthusiasm was infectious.

"Of course it's Harry's! Who else's would it be?" Hermione giggled, gripping Carys' hand. She rubbed her stomach again with her other hand.

"Don't ask me! How would I know?" Carys squawked in protest.

"Trust me, it's Harry's. Without a doubt. Mine and Harry's baby." Hermione concluded in satisfaction. "Our little miracle…"

"Glad we've cleared that one up…" Carys muttered. "We need to get you to a healer though, just to give you a proper check-up. It would be wise Herm. Get you all checked out before we go telling everyone about junior in there."

"Oh my!" Hermione exclaimed, clapping her hand to her mouth, a gesture she'd inherited from her mother.

"What?"

"I haven't told my parents!"


	12. Ginny's Dilemma

Ginny Weasley sat in her bedroom thinking. The little cleft in her forehead furrowed as she battled with herself. To tell, or not to tell? That was the question. The answer, as Ginny was having difficulty finding, was somewhat more complicated. Should she stand by her best friend and watch how her brother's best friend – not to mention the object of her admiration, pined away for another and grew increasingly more reclusive and miserable daily? Or, should she take pity on Harry, due to a silly misunderstanding, had ended up being reduced to a broken, bewildered man? Yet Hermione believed herself to be the wronged party, the one cast-aside, cheated on.

The youngest Weasley had a huge responsibility to be shouldering, and she knew it. That was why she was sitting, alone in her room, whilst her brothers were occupied with some rowdy activity. She doodled in her private notebook, trying to think what to do. Betray Hermione, her best friend, by telling Harry? Or betray Hermione a different way, by trying to seduce Harry when he had given up on her? Or betray Harry, by pretending to be oblivious to Hermione's whereabouts? Or be selfless, give up all hopes of having The Boy Who Lived and tell him where she was, thus bringing them back together? Hermione may be initially angry at her, but surely once Harry explained they'd reunite and Ginny would still have her best friend?

It was maddening, and all the time Ginny had an uneasy feeling in her stomach. She simply did not know what was the right thing to do. Telling Harry would mean breaking her promise to Hermione. However she hated seeing him so… she searched for the right word… _broken hearted_ seemed to fit, although she cringed at the idea. And she knew that she was the only one with the knowledge to get them back together. _But do you even want them back together? _A little voice in the back of her head whispered. _How long have you watched him with her, sympathised with her over how much she loved him and how she loved his kisses… and now she's left him. Isn't it time someone else got a chance? Someone who's love is not as fickle, someone who won't leave him like she did? Someone like… you? _It was tempting. And it had a point. Harry was a free man, back on the market. Anybody's game now.

_But he loves Hermione! _Another voice exclaimed in her head. Ginny knew this, but she reasoned against it. _He can't be in love with her forever,_ she thought. _Sooner or later he'll be ready for new people. I'll wait for him. And Hermione will be able to hide away, thinking what a good, loyal friend I am! Because I'll be keeping my promise to Hermione, I'll be helping Harry get over her and I'll have Harry at last! _Ginny sighed in satisfaction. Everyone would be happy. Hermione was happy in hiding, she herself was happy to wait for Harry, and Harry, well he would be happy. Once he realised he could have Ginny.

Smiling, she got up and did a victory dance round her room. Problem solved, with a clear conscience and there was something in it for her. Perfect! She skipped downstairs to find her brothers.

"Hi Gin," Ron acknowledged her as she burst into the kitchen. "What's up?"

"Nothing!" Ginny replied, startled. "Just enjoying the holidays that's all." She opened a cupboard and took out a glass. "I'm making some pumpkin juice – want some?" She offered, knowing it would be a sure way to distract her brother from asking any probing questions.

"You mean your extra special extra orange extra tasty pumpkin juice?" Ron's mouth visibly watered.

"Of course. What else?"

Ron punched the air in satisfaction and pulled his sister towards him. "I knew there was a reason you're my favourite sister!" He hugged her.

"Ugh Ron! Get off! I'm your only sister you git!" She squirmed away from him and reached for another glass. "I take it that's a yes then?" She waved the glass in front of him.

"You bet!"


	13. Can You See It?

"Can you see it?" The healer asked, as she moved her sensor slowly over Hermione's slightly rounded belly.

Hermione's eyes fixed greedily on the screen. "That's my baby! My baby!" She had tears in her eyes.

The healer smiled indulgently. "It certainly is Hermione. In a few weeks we'll able to see which sex it is. Would you like that honey?"

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, still in raptures over the fuzzy black and white picture in front of her. "I don't know," she breathed, mesmerised.

"Well, you have a few weeks to decide. Some mothers prefer to know so they can kit their babies out accordingly, some want it to be a surprise. It's entirely up to you."

Hermione nodded. "I'm having a baby!" She spluttered excitedly.

The healer laughed. "Yes, you are!" She replied. "And it looks like you're just about 4 months pregnant. Have you not been to a healer before you moved house?"

Smiling guiltily, Hermione blushed. "I didn't know I was pregnant until my friend made me use a pregnancy test the other day. And we worked out I was between 3 and 4 months so I booked an appointment – and here I am."

"I see. Well, you are 4 months along, I'd say, which puts the conception date in the middle of April, around the 13th, according to your test results. This means you're due sometime mid January."

"A New Year's baby!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes shining.

"You'll be starting to show soon, I expect dear. You've already got a slight bump now. Have you had to chance to buy maternity wear?"

Hermione looked down at her 'bump'. "I thought it was too many chocolate frogs! It's not really noticeable yet is it? Not to people who don't know I'm pregnant I mean. Because I can tell – and you can tell-"

The healer cut Hermione off. "I'd say unless you suddenly start wearing skin tight tee shirts then no one will notice for a few weeks. Why all this secrecy?" The healer was quite bemused at the girl's question.

"Oh! No reason. Just wondering." Hermione spoke quickly, tucking a brown curl behind her ear.

"You're safe to tell people, so don't worry about superstition. The old wives' tale specifies the first trimester – and well, you completed that without even realising you were having a baby!" The healer chuckled.

Hermione laughed too. "Oh good. That's ok then."

Hermione reluctantly allowed the healer to turn off the machine that allowed her to see her baby and wiped the gel off, straightening her clothing. She was about to leave when another thought crossed her mind.

"Healer Puckle?"

"Yes Hermione?"

"Is apparition safe?"

The healer studied her for a moment. "Yes, although I wouldn't recommend it in your later months. Try and stick to the Floo and brooms though. Portkeys are safe too, although unless you've had practice at landing I'd avoid them – they are quite uncomfortable at the best of times, and if you find the morning sickness doesn't go then you're asking for trouble with a portkey! In general, any method of transport is fine for pregnant witches, so don't worry about it too much. Just the risk of splinching with apparition has worse effects on witches if they're pregnant. Some witches decide not to take the chance. But again, it's a personal decision – if you're confident of your apparition skills then go ahead." The healer nodded in confirmation.

_Good, that mean I can travel however I want basically. Now, time to pay Mum and Dad a visit. I'll take Ginny, she can bolster my story about house sharing. Lucky they believed me really. _Hermione looked at her watch, doing some quick thinking. After a moment she Apparated home, and used Aithne to send a quick scribble to Ginny.


	14. Meet the Parents: Take Two

"Owl Gin!" Ron yelled, chucking a piece of parchment to his sister, who opened it and read it in silence.

"Well? Who was it?" Ron demanded, not used to his sister keeping any news quiet.

"Nothing. No one. Tell mum I'll be back for tea will you?" Ginny avoided his questions. Without waiting for a reply, she Apparated out of the Burrow, still holding her piece of parchment.

_Strange place, _Ginny thought. _Looks positively Muggle! Is this really where Hermione is living? _Ginny mused, looking about her at the little Muggle village. Her eyes scanned the landscape for Hermione, who suddenly appeared from a corner.

"Ginny!" Hermione launched herself on her friend. "How are you?"

"Very confused about what was so urgent that you summoned me down here – is this where you live?"

Hermione laughed. "Walk with me and I'll tell you. Yes, this is where I live. My village." She spread her arms to indicate the rural scene around them. Ginny smiled and fell in pace with Hermione. "I need you to come with me to tell my parents something very important. And I need you with me because when I left I owled them saying I was house sharing with you, Har- and a few others."

Ginny groaned. "So you want me to back up your story?"

"No! Will you listen? Let me finish and you'll know. Right, they already think I'm house sharing. I'm just bringing you along to prove it. But what I have to tell them is really important – they have a right to know." Hermione paused, biting her lip. She looked at her friend apprehensively.

Ginny observed this carefully and placed a hand on her friend's arm, halting their progress down the pavement. "Herm, are you all right? Has something happened?"

"Gin, what I'm about to tell you, I want you to swear to Merlin you won't tell a soul. Especially not Harry. Or your brothers or your parents. You can't tell anyone!"

"Geez Herm, stop being so dramatic. I'm already keeping one secret aren't I? None of my family think I know where you are. And neither does Harry." she added for good measure, rolling her eyes. "I think you read fiction too much – your sense of dramatic is almost funny." Ginny smirked.

Luckily her friend had the good grace to laugh. "But this is important Gin, seriously. I'm pregnant."

Ginny's gasp, Hermione thought dryly, could've given Carys' a run for its money. "Herm, please tell me you're joking."

Hermione sighed in frustration. "I am not joking! I am having Harry's baby. I am four months along. In fact," she rummaged through her handbag, "here's the bloody scan!" She produced a magical black and white picture of her womb with her moving baby inside.

Ginny peered at it closely. "Oh sweet Merlin. You have to tell Harry." She glanced up at Hermione.

"No way! I can't tell him! I've left him, and I've left him for good. That's it."

"But he's going to be a father – you have to tell him. What were you saying earlier – your parents 'have a right to know'. Well he's going to be a parent soon, he has a right to know. Tell him!" Ginny urged.

"I can't tell him!" Tears formed in Hermione's eyes. "I can't tell him. This baby is mine, not Harry's. If he doesn't know about it then he won't miss it. He can be with Lavender for all I care! I don't want him to come back to me out of pity or duty. I don't want that."

"He doesn't love Lavender." Ginny insisted. "He doesn't! He told me so!" It was as close as she could get to telling Hermione the truth about what she saw in Hogwarts.

"Then it's a good thing I've left him, if it's flings and affairs he wants. I'll let him have them. He can screw around all he wants. See if I care!" Tears fell down Hermione's face as she hated talking about Harry like this.

"Don't cry Herm. It'll be all right." Ginny comforted her awkwardly. "Let's go and see your parents and tell them. Are you ready to Apparate?"

Hermione nodded, wiping her eyes with a tissue. She linked arms with Ginny for a side-along apparition, since Ginny didn't know where her parents lived.

"Mum! Dad! I'm home!" Hermione called, as she popped into her parents' living room. She heard footsteps approach quickly and saw her mother run into the room, closely followed by her father.

"Darling! Where have you been?" Her mother half shouted half reprimanded her, in a style reminiscent of Mrs Weasley's scolding.

"You got my owl didn't you?" Hermione frowned in puzzlement, as her father pulled her into a hug. "I owled to tell you that I was house sharing with a few others, including my friend Ginny, who I've brought with me." Hermione brought her friend forward.

Her father frowned. "House sharing with Jenny? And Harry and Parvati? Oh yes, we got that owl."

Hermione nodded, unsure of what her father was getting at. "Yes, that's right. I'm house sharing. Ginny's one of my flatmates!" She smiled brightly.

Her parents exchanged a look. "So you're sharing with the same Harry who visited us three days ago, wondering where you'd run off to, the Jenny who Harry says lives at home with her parents, and the same Parvati who's saving up money whilst living at home? Stop lying to us Hermione."

"Tell us the truth." Her mother pleaded.

Ginny gave her a sympathetic look. "Busted. Bad luck Herm."

Hermione burst into tears. "I'm sorry I lied to you. Harry and I have split up and I moved away, I have a house and a job – but I have something to tell-"

Hermione was interrupted by her father. "Harry told us you'd split up with him. I'm disappointed in you Herm, a nice young lad like Harry – they're few and far between. And to think you left him over a simple misunderstanding!"

Hermione gaped at her father in shock. "Oh, so, I suppose Harry's fed you some spiel about how he didn't cheat on me has I? And you're siding with him over me!" Hermione shook with anger toward her parents.

"Herm, calm down. This isn't good for you…" Ginny whispered.

"You're right this isn't good for me! I come here to tell you something, to want you to be happy for me and I can see right now who's side you're on! He's the son you never had isn't he? The son you wanted instead of me! Well you can have him! Because I'm leaving, and you and Harry can be a nice cosy family! Merlin knows you all want that!" Hermione cried and grasping Ginny's arms, Apparated them both.

"How can I tell them now?" Hermione asked Ginny forlornly.

"They didn't make it easy for you, I admit that."

"I can't tell them. It's obvious Harry's got them eating out of the palm of his hand. A bit of the infamous Potter charm no doubt." She said sarcastically. "I can't tell them I'm having Harry's baby. The first thing they'll do is tell him. I'm just glad I didn't tell them where I'm living." she paused to blow her nose. "As far as I'm concerned Gin, I have no boyfriend and no parents."


	15. Reflecting

**AN: This has been a long time coming, due to a month's worth of A level exams followed by a holiday. I apologise for keeping you all waiting, but now I'm back home and have finished college, updates will resume their regular pattern. I know this is short, but another chapter will be up shortly. Thanks for waiting, please review. **

"You handled that well." Jane Granger said to her husband sarcastically.

Dave Granger's eyes grew wide and his face turned a shade of puce that would have rivalled an angry Uncle Vernon. "What was I supposed to say? She's walked out on that nice young lad Harry with not so much as a 'sorry I'm leaving bye' and then has the nerve to show up here with some tale about house sharing with her friend Jenny!" He expostulated angrily.

Jane sighed. "Calm down Dave. OK so she lied to us. Our daughter has lied to us for the first time. But we don't know her side of the story. For all we know –"

"We know that she left completely out of the blue and is acting irrationally. She's lying to all of us and that nice young lad –"

"Yes we know! That nice young lad Harry who hasn't done anything wrong! Well maybe he did. And don't look at me like that – I liked him too. But shouldn't we be believing our daughter over her boyfriend?"

Dave sighed. "Perhaps you're right. Ordinarily I would have believed our daughter. But she deliberately lied to us in that letter and tried to bolster it just now, even bringing her friend – whatsername – Jenny – to try and convince us. At least we know Harry is telling us the truth."

"I'm just worried about her love. And Harry too, I'm worried about both of them." Jane took her husband's hand in hers. "Remember when we were young and in love? How temperamental we both were, passionate and dramatic over every little thing?"

A slow smile began to spread over her husband's face. "Fat lot of good it did us. Married with a daughter in the same situation!"

"She said she had something to tell us. She said she'd come over here to tell us something." Jane urged.

"Yeah, to lie to us and tell us she's house sharing!"

"No, I don't think so. Dave, she said she'd got something to tell us after we'd told her we knew it was a lie. There's something else, other than the house and the job."

"Well, she'll come round soon enough. Just wait until this all blows over then she'll come and tell us whatever it is. Can't be that important." Dave patted his wife's hand reassuringly.

"Yes, dear, you're quite right. It's not important.


	16. He Did NOT Cheat on You!

"Oh Ginny! I can't believe I've just done that!" Hermione exclaimed, a few hours later, trying in vain to stop tears rolling down her cheeks.

"If it's any consolation, I don't blame you. They were hardly very nice to you, even if you did lie." Ginny soothed her friend. "But please, Herm, please tell Harry. He's going to be a father! And not just that, it's with the woman he loves – he loves you Herm!"

Hermione shook her head. "He doesn't love me Gin. He just thought he did. For a few months –"

Ginny spluttered indignantly. "A few months? More like a year and a few months!"

"Whatever. For a few months he thought he loved me, we had a great time, that I do thank him for. He made me so happy Gin, it was like life suddenly became a million times richer just for being able to say he's mine! That Harry was mine and I was his. When he held my hand… oh Ginny how could he?"

"How could he what?" Ginny was slightly perplexed.

"How could he do that to me? Make me fall in love with him just to leave me!"

"Hermione listen to me! Harry did not leave you. You left him. Harry did not cheat on you."

"But-"

"Harry did not cheat on you."

"He-"

"Harry did NOT cheat on you."

"Gin-"

"Harry James Potter has NEVER cheated on you."

"Then what was he doing with Lavender then?" Hermione shrieked, trying to get a word in.

"He was comforting her!" Ginny yelled back in exasperation.

"And that makes it ok does it?" Hermione challenged, tears flowing freely. The two witches were standing opposite each other now, sending menacing looks at each other.

"Honestly! Will you just listen to me for one minute? Harry was not cheat-"

"Yes yes I know! You've told me about 4 million times! Whatever. Get a new phrase!" Hermione was angry and her hands shook.

Ginny blinked, shocked at the direction Hermione's anger had taken. "That's it Hermione. I'm not listening to this. It's not me you're angry it, it's Harry. But you have to tell him about the baby. If you don't, then I will."

Instantly all the anger flew out of Hermione and she sank to the floor in a panic. "No, please Gin, no – you can't – oh please don't!" Her sobs increased as her mind propelled her into a new frenzy. Ginny watched uncomfortably, a face a grimace of confusion. She didn't know what to do. Her sadness and regret at seeing one of her best friends caught in a panic of worry and fright and sobbing openly, made her feel guilty.

Desperately, she called to Hermione. "Herm please stop! Think of the baby! You mustn't get too stressed in your condition. Herm?" Ginny stopped, not knowing what to say. Her words seemed to have little effect as Hermione's crying continued, in heart-wrenching sobs that made her whole body shudder. Awkwardly Ginny crouched beside Hermione and put a quivering hand on her shoulder. Opening her mouth to speak more quietly she tried again to soothe her friend. "Hermione. It's all right. Please stop though, this won't do the baby any good." Still no response. Ginny took a deep breath and sighed. There was only one thing she could do. "I…" She started and gulped, the words that were forming in her head were choking her mouth. But she had to say it. "I won't tell Harry." The words left Ginny's lips quickly, as if she was pushing them out before she stopped herself saying them.

She had no time to regret her pledge to Hermione, as suddenly her sobs grew quieter and fewer and she sat up. Wiping her eyes roughly with one hand as the other rested naturally on her stomach she turned to face Ginny. "Really?" she whispered, then hiccoughed.

Ginny just nodded. She couldn't bear to betray Harry in this way, and at that moment she felt as though saying it a second time would make the betrayal worse.

Visibly relaxing, the older girl let out a breath. "Thank you."


	17. The Seeker

**Author's Note: Sorry this is later than I said, I got a new laptop, had to transfer files and then I had a birthday and got all caught up in that – so hectic time! It's a bit of a longer chapter than usual so I hope you all appreciate it. I would like more reviews this time please. **

It was a Sunday in late August, Hermione was four months pregnant and had been gone for 2 and a half months.

Harry sat in the room he shared with Ron at the Burrow, his head in his hands, idly staring out of the window. He watched lazily as Ron charged around the garden chasing a gnome that was just too quick for him. Every time Ron reached to grasp the little wretch, the teasing thing would leap out of his way. It reminded Harry of one of Dudley's birthday parties, when Mrs Figg had been sick. They had gone to the circus, and one of the clowns, the one with the biggest red nose and biggest shoes, had been intent on catching another. Harry remembered laughing at the ridiculous charade, laughing at the clown who was trying and failing to catch his partner. Now he wished he hadn't laughed quite so hard at the big nosed clown's expense. Now he felt more empathic, more sorry for the sad comic, who only wanted his playmate back. _Yeah, you and me both pal._ Now he felt just like that clown, chasing Hermione's trail around the country, pursuing every possible line to find her. And his classmates had mocked – even Ron thought he was crackers and was probably laughing at him as mercilessly as he himself had laughed at the clown. _There was karma for you,_ Harry thought wryly, bringing his thoughts back to the futile chase Ron was still engaged in regarding the pesky gnome. He still hadn't caught it, rather the gnome was leading Ron in circles.

Harry was fed up. He'd looked everywhere he could think of for Hermione and she was nowhere to be found. He thumped a fist on the window sill in front of him in frustration. Time was running out. In a week he would be starting his new job, in the beginning of September. A letter had come for him yesterday from Oliver Wood, his old Quidditch captain at Hogwarts. Apparently Puddlemere needed a new Seeker, Wood had mentioned something about the current one going on maternity leave.

_A temporary post, you understand ,just until Christmas, but you would be very much appreciated. No doubt you've had hundreds of offers from more lucrative companies and probably other Quidditch teams Harry, but I'm appealing to you as on old friend, who remembers how you helped pull his team back to the top to beat the Slytherins. Do you fancy doing that again? _

The heartfelt, genuine letter from his old friend touched Harry. The first job offer to Harry, rather than "The Boy Who Lived" or – to use his new moniker, "The Boy Who Conquered." A letter offering him a job on his qualities, rather than reputation. And a job playing Quidditch at that! Encouraged by Ron, who thought it was high time Harry stopped moping after Hermione, he wrote back to Oliver a delighted acceptance.

He had a week to find her. A week. Harry cursed in his mind. He needed her back with him! Couldn't anyone see that? Ron, whilst humouring his quest for Hermione initially had now resigned himself to the fact she had gone and was imploring Harry at every opportunity to start living his own life. Even Molly Weasley, the most devoted matriarch when it came to Harry's well being had looked at him one evening with kind but firm eyes and given him a lecture along the lines of "plenty more mermaids in the lake". But they didn't understand! None of them did! There weren't any more mermaids in the lake for Harry – Hermione was his one and only! He had to get her back! He had to!

Only Ginny had been anything different. She had listening to him like the rest, yet instead of telling Harry to get over it or find someone else she had sighed, her eyes suddenly taking on a wistful look as her hands had fidgeted in her lap. _"I'm really sorry Harry,"_ she had said. _"I'm really sorry."_ Harry appreciated this; it seemed as though Ginny knew what he was going through, as if she knew that clichés about mermaids in the lake and moving on to pastures new wouldn't help. He remembered giving her a slight smile for that. _"Thanks Gin,"_ he had said. She had responded funnily to that, getting up and turning her face away from him. In a choked voice he had strained to hear, she whispered _"Don't thank me Harry."_ Harry felt guilty at this recollection. Of course he had been insensitive. He realised then that Ginny must be missing Hermione almost as much as he was. _After all,_ he reasoned, _if not for Ron and I, Hermione and Ginny were almost best friends. _

Feeling an urge to pace, Harry left his seat by the window. His gaze fell upon a stack of his birthday presents. _Might as well sort them,_ he thought bitterly, realising that most he had not even opened yet. Reluctantly he set to organising his opened presents into new homes, the act reminding him of Hermione's tidy mind. After some time, he was left with a pile of unopened presents. With an increased vigour he ripped the paper off a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Enjoying the sensation of ripping the paper he reached for the next one, paying little heed to the contents he greedily ripped and tore the happy looking paper into shreds. He had got through a couple of presents and was half way through the third when he realised that there was a Muggle style gift tag attached the wrapping paper. Squinting to read the small, neat handwriting he read the card.

Harry,

When my mind does not know where to look, I find looking at my mind a good place to start.

Wishing you a very happy birthday,

Albus Dumbledore

Discarding the wrapping paper, Harry diverted his attention to the gift, wondering what Dumbledore could have meant. He opened the box and reached inside, his hand curling round a hard rim. He pulled the object out gently and gasped: Dumbledore had given him a Pensieve.

Thinking for some time on just how he could use a Pensieve to help in his search for Hermione, Harry studied the magical object. Looking deceptively like a stone basin, for now it was empty. However Harry knew that with a thought in it the basin would fill with a silvery substance, and would enable him to watch his own thoughts in a way more detailed than a hazy memory alone. He reread Dumbledore's card. It was evident from the message that it was intended to help him find Hermione. Feeling grateful for this bit of covert help from a very unexpected source, hope began to fill Harry again. Maybe, just maybe, one of his memories would hold a clue.


	18. Remembering

"_It's Harry, isn't it?" _

"_Yes ma'am. Harry Potter." _

"_Of course! Harry dear, how are you? Hermione's told us so much about you. Naturally, we've not seen you for some time what with school and that-"_

"_Who is it love?" A voice called from within, causing Mrs Granger to stop mid-sentence. _

"_One of Hermione's friends, Dave!" She called to her husband. Then to Harry: "Come on in dear; let's not leave you on the doorstep. Come on now."_

_Harry shuffled in, feeling slightly nervous. He'd never been in Hermione's home before. Hell, he'd never met Hermione's parents before! What was I thinking? Oh hello Mr and Mrs Granger, your daughter and I were going out – oh yeah and I annoyed her, she broke up with me and ran away. Know where she is? Like that would work. He entered their living room and Mr Granger stood up to meet him. He shook his hand and sat down. _

"_Well, dear, what brings you here?" Mrs Granger asked gently. "Would you like a drink?" _

"_Oh, yes please. Thank you very much Mrs Granger." _

"_Well boy, you're quite a favourite with my little girl. What is it we can do for you?" Mr Granger spoke up as his wife went to make Harry a drink. _

_Harry cringed; Mr Granger seemed to be a typically protective father. Great, just what I need, an overprotective father and a dentist to boot. I'll be lucky if I get out with any teeth at this rate… _

"_Well, Sir, the thing is-"_

"_Call me Dave." _

"_Thanks, er, Dave. Well, you see, the thing is, me and Herm- I mean Hermione and I, well we, we were, pretty good friends…" Harry started._

_To his surprise Mr Granger slapped his knee in mirth and guffawed. "Oh son! You had me going there! You're Hermione's boyfriend aren't you? Well, why didn't you say so?" Mr Granger laughed further and Harry blushed. _

"_Now Dave, stop teasing the poor boy. You're making him uncomfortable." Mrs Granger reproved her husband. "Here you go dear, lemonade. Sugar-free." _

"_Thank you Mrs Granger. I was just telling your husband about Hermione and I." _

"_Oh! Of course! You're going out aren't you?" Mrs Granger nodded. _

"_You knew?" Mr Granger looked at his wife in surprise. _

"_Of course! Hermione – what do you call it – owled me as soon as they got together. Rather sweet if you ask me. She was deliriously happy Harry." _

"_Oh." Was all Harry could say. He cleared his throat. "Have you, seen Hermione recently? Or heard from her?" Harry spoke tentatively. _

"_Oh yes! Why, we got a letter from her back in June – she said exams were over, school was finished and her and some of her friends would be flat-sharing until they had good jobs and could get places of their own. Do you like it Harry? Hermione was rather vague, she mentioned you of course, and a couple of girls – Ginny and Parvati I think their names were. She said she'd contact us when the move was over and you'd all got your house straight. Why do you ask dear? Surely you see Hermione every day?" Mrs Granger was perplexed. _

Harry's head shot up out of the Pensieve and he gasped, letting the memory wash over him again. Mrs Granger's soft voice _"She said she'd contact us when the move was over"_ rolled round and round in his head.

He thought fast. Last time he'd seen the Grangers it was the beginning of August. It was now practically the end of August. Despite going in June, Hermione had obviously not contacted her parents by the time he had gone to see them. Could she have visited them between then and now? Very likely, he thought. After all, she wrote that when she was settled she would go and see them. _But if she's seen them, then why didn't they let you know? _A voice in his head niggled at him. Harry frowned, the Grangers would surely have told him – after all, he was as anxious as they were for Hermione. Suddenly he realised. How could they have contacted him, even if they'd wanted to? They didn't know his address, he had no telephone at either his home at Grimmauld Place and he knew the Weasleys didn't have one. As Muggles they could not Apparate, their fireplace was not connected with the Floo and they didn't have an owl.

Harry felt like kicking himself. For all he knew the Grangers could know exactly where she was by now, and all this time they'd just be waiting, hoping that Harry would come back and tell them. He was about to Apparate when another thought occurred to him: The Grangers needed to be able to reach him. Smiling at his idea, he went downstairs to find Arthur Weasley sitting at the kitchen table.

"Hello Harry. And how are you this afternoon?" Arthur began jovially.

Harry grinned. "Better than ever thanks Mr Weasley. I've just had an idea –"

"Uh oh!" A scared expression crossed Mr Weasley's face. "Sorry Harry, it's just with a household full of boys, when one of them says something like that then Molly and I expect trouble."

_Great start Harry, you want a favour and he thinks you're up to something. Time for the charm. _Harry laughed politely. "I understand. Mr Weasley, I need a favour doing. It would be of great help to me and I thought, as you work at the Ministry-"

"This isn't something illegal is it?" Mr Weasley asked suspiciously.

"Oh no! Nothing that could get you into trouble. I just want a Floo Connection setting up please Sir."

Arthur's face relaxed as he sighed in relief. "Harry! Of course you can have a Floo Connection! Was that all? Oh really! Hang on – Grimmauld Place is connected to the Floo already isn't it?" A slight frown appeared.

"Yes Sir, it is. But it's not for Grimmauld Place. It's for the Grangers' home, so they can Floo in and out of the wizarding world. They need it to visit their daughter."

Arthur smiled. "Nice try Harry. You mean you want them to have a Floo Connection so that _you_ can visit the Grangers and encourage them to visit _you_ so _you_ can keep tabs on their daughter."

Harry blushed but didn't say anything. He looked sheepishly at the floor and Arthur Weasley chuckled.

"Although having said that," he continued, "it would be nice to be able to visit Dave and Jane, find out how their Muggle house works… yes I reckon it should be possible. After all, the only reason Muggles don't have Floo is because they are Muggles. Dave and Jane have a witch for a daughter, so they know all about the wizarding world. Yes, I think that should be easy to organise. In fact I can do that myself – when were you planning on installing it?"

_I love you Arthur Weasley… _"As soon as possible Mr Weasley. Thank you." Harry could hardly keep the grin off his face.

Arthur Weasley smiled back. "Well it's not everyday the Boy Who Conquered wants a favour is it?" He winked at Harry. "This Thursday at 10?"

"Great! Thanks Mr Weasley." He punched the air excitedly.


	19. To The Lighthouse

Hermione walked slowly into the coolness of the university library, the smell of books and old paper filling the air and her lungs. She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes, imagining Hogwarts' library. A sense of peace filled her, she felt like she was at home here.

The quietness of it calmed her, and the lack of people reminded her yet of Hogwarts' library. Being an August Sunday, and an extraordinarily hot one at that, she was almost alone in the cool room. All the students were on holiday and all that remained at the small university were the Fellows and a couple of professors. Putting a hand to the small of her back in a supporting position that had come to her naturally over the last couple of weeks, she tilted her head to read the titles above her. Her other hand rested on her protruding stomach. At four and a half months, she had a quite sizeable bump now, and Hermione marvelled at how, for 4 months, she had been practically flat, and then suddenly she had swelled out over the last two weeks. _I've been pregnant for half the pregnancy now_ she thought to herself proudly. Her morning sickness had cleared up and she was enjoying being pregnant. She wasn't too big to move and could still tie her shoelaces, yet she was big enough to be noticeably pregnant and to feel her baby moving inside her. She hummed quietly to her baby as she chose her book, rubbing her stomach in a comforting motion. Just as she was about to take her hand away to pick up a book, she felt a sharp kick and a proud smile filled her face. Patting her stomach she cooed to her baby softly then reached to get her book.

This was how Hermione spent a lot of her free time. Once the upheaval of the move had gone, and she had settled into a routine, she spent a lot of time in the library. But unlike at Hogwarts, where the library had symbolised a place of work and research for classes, the library at Lampeter was her favourite bolt hole. A place to go where she could experience tranquillity, escape into a fictional world with just her and her baby… she'd rub her hands over her stomach, stroking her baby, occasionally cooing to it as it moved, whispering softly about the book she was reading, telling her baby all about the works of Dickens, or Shakespeare or Austin. Today the baby was learning about Virginia Woolf.

How much the baby absorbed – if it indeed had any idea of what its mother was talking about – was something Hermione did not know. But she liked to think her baby could hear her, and at any rate, would recognise her voice and know who its mother was.

Settling down in an easy chair, favouring this to one of the many work tables that resembled the tables in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, she opened _"To The Lighthouse"_ and started to read to herself.

Lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed the approaching footsteps, and she started slightly as a glass of orange juice was pushed into her line of vision. "Oh!" she gasped in surprise.

"For the little mother. You need to keep hydrated."

"Yes. Yes I know. I mean, thank you." Hermione smiled, looking up from her book to the speaker. It was a man, middle aged, with rather distinguished features. Pleasant looking, he reminded Hermione somewhat of Mr Weasley; he shared the same friendly, family-orientated look.

"You like to read." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, I do."

The man took a seat across the table, close enough to talk quietly but close enough to be disconcerting, Hermione noted. She warmed to the man as he spoke again. "I've seen you in here a lot. Most days."

"Yes." She replied idly, wondering where he was going with this.

"Always alone." He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I like the peacefulness of solitude."

"I can see that. Drink up."

Hermione lifted the glass to her lips and smiled. The juice was cool, freshly made, and it slid down her throat, sending a shiver through her. "Mmm. Thank you."

"You're very welcome. Remember to look after yourself; you have a baby to think of." The man gently chastised her.

"I know. I do, honestly." Hermione hurriedly assured him.

The man smiled, his eyes almost appearing to nod. "Well make sure your husband looks after you."

Hermione blushed and dropped her gaze. "I'm not married."

"My dear, I did not wish to cause you any embarrassment. Really I should have been more observant. Forgive me, I should not have presumed." His gaze wandered to her left hand, conspicuous by the absence of a wedding ring.

Hermione's gaze softened as she saw that the man did not intend his comment to be a reprove. "It's all right. Really."

"That's all right then. So, do tell me, what are you teaching your unborn child today?" He changed the subject, evidently putting it behind him.

"I'm reading _To The Lighthouse_ and it's fascinating. When I was younger I didn't appreciate it, but now I think I can understand it better. It's all about perception and people's goals and views on life. Of course I don't expect this little one to understand it, but I enjoy it for myself, I find it…" she paused, trying to find the appropriate word. "Reassuring."

"Curious." The man rejoined.

"Why?" Hermione frowned.

"I think, my dear, you are rather a deep character. I am intrigued."

Hermione laughed. "Oh well, I don't know what to say to that!"

"Then perhaps you can tell me why you find Virginia Woolf so, _reassuring_?"

She held his gaze for a moment or two, looking carefully at him. "Well the characters, what they do, how they see things, it's what we all do, isn't it? They symbolise how different people all see the world, or make goals and I find that reading how someone else realises how different people see things, or what items symbolise to others – reassuring." Her eyes had wandered to the window as she thought and spoke her answer, but when she finished she fixed them on her companion, waiting for what he would have to say.

"So are you saying that you find the fact that other people – Virginia Woolf in this case – have found the human race to be very individual and having different, changing interpretations and perceptions from one's own, to be a comfort?"

"Yes. I suppose I am."

"Interesting." He flashed her a quick smile. "I think my dear; I had better leave you to enjoy the delights of Virginia Woolf. Time is rather pressing, and as much as I've enjoyed this little chat I must go. Goodbye, my dear."

"Goodbye," Hermione faltered as the man strode out of the library, suddenly realising that she did not know his name.


End file.
